Standing Outside The Fire
by See Jane Conform
Summary: A strange little ditty about Goku and Bulma with introspection, a song and a scene set the night before Goku's wedding.


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Title: Standing Outside The Fire

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Author: See Jane Conform

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E-mail: seejaneconform@msn.com

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Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with the wonderful creators of DB/Z and own nothing you see here. This was inspired by the song "Standing Outside The Fire" by Garth Brooks which I also do not own or am in anyway affiliated with. This is being written for the sole purpose of enjoyment and I am in no way making a profit from it. 

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Rating: PG

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Summary: A bit of Goku/Bulma fluff that mainly takes place the night before Goku's wedding. 

Standing Outside The Fire

3 _We call them cool   
Those hearts that have no scars to show  
The ones that never do let go   
And risk the tables being turned_ 3  


I knew the kid loved me. 

Hell, everybody knew the kid loved me. 

It was written on his face as clear as day. He never was one to hide his emotions, you know? Never one to play the game… 

Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. I played the game… look where it got me. 

I was half in love with him then. I think I knew that too. 

But I had to test him. 

I had to. 

I trusted him with my life, implicitly. There was never any doubt about that. 

But with my heart? 

I guarded that a little more carefully. 

I've been accused of sabotage, of dooming my relationships before they start. But it was necessary, the testing. I had to be sure. I couldn't just hand my heart over to a child. 

But he wasn't a child. 

Sometimes I'd forget. Sometimes I'd make myself forget. It was so much easier to think of him that way. 

But he was no child. He was a man. 

And maybe that's what scared me most of all. 

So I would test him. Little things at first, small tasks or favors. The favors began to grow larger, but he never wavered. I felt guilty for doubting him, foolish for thinking my tests would mean anything anyway. But it was too late. Everyday the stakes rose. There was always just one more test, one more time he needed to prove himself. 

__

"I'm so hungry!" I wailed, clutching my stomach and affecting a wounded look of starvation. 

"Bulma?" His voice was concern and affection.

"Weak… so weak…" I fell to the ground, rolling around a bit as I clutched my stomach. I threw in some moans for good measure.

Truthfully? I was no where near starvation. I wasn't even that hungry… more bored. I think he knew that too, but he was too sweet to point out my melodramatic antics. __

"There's a stream not too far ahead, do you think you can make it?"

"I feel so cold… and there's this light… they want me to go to the light…"

He fidgeted, anxiety written across that expressive face. He hadn't eaten since I had last, and he required more food so he had to know I was exaggerating, but the worry emanating from his body wasn't artificial. I could see his options warring in his mind. Finally reaching a decision, he lit a small fire and told me to wait where I was. He was back faster then humanly possible –but that was nothing new- carrying a fish larger then his self. He cooked it over the small camp fire as I unfocused my eyes and clutched at my stomach for show. When the fish was done, he sliced off a large portion from the best part and handed it to me. I ate it greedily but discreetly kept a close eye on him. Sure, I noticed that in a rare moment of restraint he waited until I had had my fill before settling down to inhale the rest. But what was that supposed to mean except that on occasion he actually could use something that resembled decent manners? 

"Thank you for getting the fish and cooking it." I said as we warmed ourselves in front of the fire. There was something disgustingly endearing about the disaster zone around him; the evidence of his meal was left on his shirt and fish bones lay where they had been messily tossed behind him. I caught his gaze but wasn't prepared for the undisguised warmth in them. But I wasn't ready. I wasn't sure yet. I launched a tirade in counterattack. "Of course I wouldn't have been at the brink of starvation if you hadn't made me..." I screeched at him until my throat hurt, then blamed that on him too. But all he did was smile.

He passed the tests –all the tests- with flying colors. But it wasn't enough. I was a scientist and nothing was 100%. Nothing was infallible. There had to be a flaw in the design. Too many variables, insufficient data, a tainted control… whatever it was, I needed to buy more time. I could feel myself losing ground. Every time he smiled at me, that smile that he saved just for me or touched me, an innocent nudge from those heaven-sent muscular arms, I lost a little bit more of myself. After being so stubbornly independent all my life, the feeling was terrifying. So I grew desperate. I flung everything I had at him. I threw Yamcha in his face and he told me he wanted me to be happy. I yelled and I screamed and I gave him every reason to run away and not come back and he never left my side. I didn't fight when Chi Chi entered the ring with her eye on him as prize, and he paused. I failed the one test, he ever -even unknowingly- set, and he watched with sad eyes.
3 _We call them fools _
Who have to dance within the flame 
Who chance the sorrow and the shame 
That always comes with getting burned 3
I loved her. 
I loved her long before I learned the name of the feeling. And I loved her long after I first heard the words people used to describe it.
Learning the name or hearing words didn't change anything, because loving her wasn't something that needed to be labeled or expressed out loud. 
I knew it. I could feel it inside. It had become a part of who I was. And that was enough. 
Loving her was the most natural thing in my world. It was there alongside my like for fighting and my dislike for splinters. I never questioned why I didn't care for pain, why I enjoyed ice cream or why I loved her. I just did. 
I gave myself into that love fully. 
I only wished she could do the same.
But maybe it was just easier for me. I know I see things differently from everybody else. I don't know if it's because of my race or because of the bump I received on the head when I was a child that made me different. I don't question and I don't analyze. I don't think like the others. I see and I feel and I act. But maybe what really sets me apart is that I don't doubt. I don't doubt that the good guys will win; I don't doubt that the sun will rise again tomorrow, and I don't doubt my love. 
She is the smartest woman I have ever known, and she is full of doubts. Everything she sees or feels, she has to dissect and analyze. She is incapable of trusting in anything- even in what, if she ignored her doubts, she'd realize she knows- without a dozen tests and data backing her up. She pays a high price for her intelligence. She may be brilliant, but she doesn't understand faith. She can't comprehend what it means to let herself go completely and lose herself in a feeling. And until she learns that it's not about what she thinks but what she feels, she'll never be truly happy.
But I love her.
3 _But you've got to be tough when consumed by desire _
'Cause it's not enough just to stand outside the fire 3
"I can't believe you're getting married in the morning."
"Yeah." He shrugged his shoulders and one hand reached up to scratch the back of his neck. "It's kind of weird. I'm not really sure how this all happened."
"That's mostly Chi Chi's doing. She's taken care of everything. All you need to do is show up." 
"Yeah, I guess." His hand fell back down to his side and he seated himself on a large rock. 
"You guess?" She laughed and nudged him to make room for her as she moved to sit next to him. "Chi Chi will have your head if you aren't there on time." 
"Yeah." The back of his head ached faintly as if remembering the last time he disappointed his hot tempered bride-to-be. 
"I just can't believe you're getting married."
"You said that already." He hid a grin as she swatted at him.
"Well it's no less true now then it was before!" She sighed. "You don't seem old enough to get married." She cut him off before he could reply. "But that's ridiculous. Of course you're old enough. It's just that it's hard sometimes, to see that you aren't the same boy I met so many years ago." Her voice was brisk, if slightly choked up. She could feel his gaze on her and she reluctantly looked up to meet it. His eyes seemed darker somehow. But it must have been the fading light playing tricks on her.
"It's been a long time since I was that young."
"I know." And against her will she let her eyes linger on the sharp contours of his face, slide down his well-defined chest to his tan, muscular arms and finally rest on his hands. Hands that no longer belonged to a child, but were now rough and callused, that swelled with strength and capability. Hands with the ability to cause mass destruction and death, but that were used to preserve life. 
As if knowing the path of her thoughts, he held one up, palm open to her. She placed her matching one against his and compared them as they had first done so many, many years before. Hers were pale and small, smooth and for once unmarred by the cuts and scrapes she usually collected working on her inventions. His were large and dark, tanned from hours training in the sun, and hardened by years of fighting. They engulfed hers, and he folded the tips of his fingers over hers to highlight the difference in size. She smiled, but then her eyes fell to her wrist where her watch lay. In six more hours there would be a wedding band on one of those masculine hands. She removed hers and let it drop to her lap. His lingered in the air a moment, as if wanting to follow before he drew it to his own side.
"Give me a reason." His soft words shattered the silence.
"What?" Her confusion was enough cause to meet his eyes once more.
"Give me a reason not to go threw with it tomorrow." 
3 _We call them strong _
Those who can face this world alone 
Who seem to get by on their own 
Those who will never take the fall 3 
"I don't know what you're talking about." But the lie sounded empty even to her own ears. She stood up quickly and took a few steps to put distance between them. Even with her back to him, she could feel the intensity of his stare.
Wasn't this it? Shouldn't this be the final test? She had stepped aside and done nothing as Chi Chi schemed her way into his life and all but forced him down the aisle. And still, he was giving her the chance to put an end to it. One word from her would be all he needed. Here he was, on the eve of his wedding, pleading with her to stop running. Because that was what she was doing. That was what all the testing was about. It wasn't his love she couldn't trust, it was her own. She was so terrified of losing control or making a mistake, that it had almost cost her the chance to be happy. All she had to do was turn around right now and tell him how she felt. 
But how could she? How could she explain what she didn't even understand. After depending on data and proof all her life, how could she in one moment change everything on a feeling? Facts she could trust. Facts were true and constant, they were comprehensible, they didn't change. But feelings were unstable. She could admit to herself that she loved him now. But what about tomorrow? How could she risk so much on something without any proof it would even still exist in the morning? 
No, it was better this way. Until she was sure she could trust it, she had to remain silent. 
"I can't think of a single reason for you to not marry Chi Chi. I'm sure she'll make you very happy."
"You're lying."
3 _We call them weak _
Who are unable to resist 
The slightest chance love might exist 
And for that forsake it all 3 
His breath warmed her neck and she spun around to face him, prepared to deny his accusation and to damn his supernatural stealth. 
But he didn't give her the chance to say anything. His mouth descended to capture hers, and whatever she might have said became lost forever as she drowned in the fire his touch created. The powerful hands she had earlier contemplated now cradled her waist as he so gently drew her even closer. His lips drugged her with his kiss, and his scent overpowered any reason she had left. There was no confusing the passionate man embracing her with a child. 
3 _They're so hell-bent on giving ,walking a wire _
Convinced it's not living if you stand outside the fire
Standing outside the fire 
Standing outside the fire 
Life is not tried, it is merely survived 
If you're standing outside the fire 
There's this love that is burning 
Deep in my soul 
Constantly yearning to get out of control 
Wanting to fly higher and higher 
I can't abide 
Standing outside the fire 3
But even as she unconsciously pressed closer against him, and tilted her head to offer herself to him, her instincts screamed for her to run, to flee from this mans touch lest she be burned alive by the heat of his desire. The spark that had hidden dormant in her for so long ignited in a fiery inferno. It was too much. It burned too hot. She was losing herself to it. 
It was he who first broke the kiss, though their faces remained close and their breath mixed in the short space between them. It wasn't until she felt the icy cool air rushing into her lungs that she even realized how much breath she had lost. She would have let herself suffocate in their love. The knowledge frightened her.
He could feel her begin to pull away even before she moved.
"Don't do this. You can't deny what's between us. Stay." 
"I- I can't. This isn't right. I won't lose myself for anyone. This was a mistake. It's late and we're both tired. You are going to go back inside, get some sleep and forget about this whole stupid night. Tomorrow's a big day." 
"You can't believe this doesn't change things-"
"What? One stupid kiss? It didn't mean anything."
"Don't be afraid. I know you felt it too. It's there between us, it always has been."
"I'm sorry."
3 _We call them cool _
Those hearts that have no scars to show 
The ones that never do let go 
And risk the tables being turned 3
"Goodnight, Goku." She turned to leave, but before she disappeared into the night she paused, "I _am_ sorry." And then she was gone, leaving behind only her scent clinging to his clothes, her taste lingering in his mouth, and the ghost of her touch. 
_3 We call them fools _
Who have to dance within the flame 
Who chance the sorrow and the shame 
That always comes with getting burned 3
    "Me too, Bulma."


End file.
